Easier to Run
by kainogenesis
Summary: 1x2, 3x4, yaoi. Duo's past caused him to run from his friends and the man he loved. Now his past will send him running back to them, but will he survive it?
1. Chapter 1 Decisions

*Author's Notes: This fic begins after the war. I have taken great liberties with the timeline (in this fic, Endless Waltz never happened), so don't be surprised. This is a work in progress. I have the entire fic outlined (it's been floating around in my head for months now), but I am posting it as I write it, so any suggestions/critiques/complaints/encouragement are greatly appreciated.

This fic was inspired by the song _Easier to Run_, by Linkin Park.

*Warnings: Yaoi. This means boys who love boys. If this makes you feel like a rabid hate-monger who wants to flame me for being a twisted heathen, please save both of us the trouble, and _don't read this fic_. Also contains angst, Duo-sufferitis, language, etc.

You have been warned.

*Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing, the Gundam Wing characters, or a beach house in Jamaica. Don't sue me.

**********

_Chapter 1_

I hit the floor beside the bed with a sickening thud, my ears filled with the ragged sound of my own breathing, coming in sobbing pants. I struggled for a moment before realizing that my legs were not tied down, just tangled impossibly in the sheets. I raised a trembling hand to wipe my sweat-soaked bangs out of my face and tried to get my bearings. Tried to convince myself that the hands I could still feel on my skin were only in my imagination. 

A quiet voice calling my name made me flinch before I realized it was just Hilde. She was standing in my bedroom doorway, looking at me with concern, and, I'm ashamed to admit, a little fear. She didn't come any closer. I appreciated that--I was too shaky to deal with the proximity of another person. The last time she'd tried to awaken me from a nightmare, she made the mistake of touching me. You never touch a sleeping soldier. Never. I had nearly strangled her to death before I came fully awake.

"Are you alright?"

I felt myself blush. I didn't particularly like for anyone to see me like this. "I'm fine, Hilde. Soldiers have nightmares. Go back to sleep." I tried to smile, to soften the harshness in my voice, but I'm sure it came out looking more than a little sickly. I couldn't help it, and she didn't comment, so I let it drop. I pulled myself up off the floor and adjusted the sheet around me. I had on boxer shorts, but I didn't want anyone looking at me right now. I still felt too raw, too exposed, from the nightmare. I wouldn't meet Hilde's eyes, hoping she would swallow her curiosity, as she usually did, and just leave me alone.

Thankfully, she did. After nodding to me once, she turned and left. I breathed a sigh of relief, and stumbled to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face. There was no way in hell I could go back to sleep. Even if I had felt sleepy, I wouldn't have chanced it. The nightmare was just...too much to take twice in one night.

Yes, *the* nightmare. Just one, and it had nothing to do with the war, despite what I might have told Hilde about soldiers. It was more memory than nightmare, but I shied away from acknowledging that fact. Nothing like a little self-denial. I cursed to myself as I turned on the water in the sink, leaning over it to stare at my haggard reflection in the mirror on the wall above it. I thought I had gotten rid of the nightmare; thought that I had nearly worked it out of my system with my painting, and I had, somewhat. Until I recieved the first of many calls from an...admirer?...stalker?...monster from my nightmares?...a few weeks ago. I shuddered violently, remembering.

_"Duo, have you missed me?" A deep voice, a husky laugh, both sounding muted and mysterious on the phone. There was no vid feed, and the caller remained faceless. "Why didn't you tell me you were back on L2? My little Duo. My little whore..." I could hear the laughter for hours after slamming the phone down._

I looked down in some surprise at my bloody fist, and the pieces of broken glass litterring the sink. Well, look at that. I caught myself before I could giggle. Apparently I wasn't currently in the mood to look in the mirror. I left the glass in the sink, carefully picking my way out of the bathroom. My options were clear--I couldn't remain here, in this house or on L2, any longer. Hilde didn't need to deal with this shit, and I didn't need the constant reminders of my past. The problem was I didn't have anywhere else to go, and only one person I felt I could call. I thought again of the messages and calls I had recieved, and quickly made a decision. Not bothering to calculate the time on earth, I picked up the phone and dialed. In a moment, Trowa's face was looking at me in surprise from the vidscreen. I grimaced, having nearly forgotten about him in my agitation.

"Err...hey, Tro. Quatre around?"

He hesitated, staring at me hard, before answering. "Hold on a minute, Duo."

Quatre's face was filling the screen so quickly, I realized he had been close by. "Duo! I'm so glad you called! How are you?"

I smiled crookedly for him, feeling soothed by the familiar sound of Quatre-babble. "Hey, Quat," I murmured, suddenly floundering for words now that he was there.

He seemed to consider me for a moment. "Duo, you look like shit," he said finally, surprising a laugh out of me. "What's wrong?"

I gave him a Maxwell grin, glad that I had called him. "Long, boring story," I said. "Look, Quat. I'm moving to earth, but I need someplace to stay while I find a place of my own. Would you..."

He cut me off. "Of course, Duo! You know you're always welcome here," he said, practically beaming.

I was grateful for his instant invitation, and felt a tightening in my throat. "Thanks, man. It'll only be for a little while, I promise."

He shook a finger at me. "You stay as long as you like, Duo, and we'll be glad to have you. I'm just glad you're finally moving closer to the rest of us."

I stiffened at the thought of "the rest of us". "Look, Quat, about that...don't tell Heero, okay? And don't tell Wufei, either." I knew Wufei would never keep a secret from Heero. They were partners, after all.

"Duo," Quatre began with a sigh, but I didn't want to hear it.

"No, Quatre. If you can't promise, I'll stay somewhere else. I mean it."

He pouted for a moment, but I wouldn't budge, and he knew it. "Fine," he said. "I promise--but you have to tell me what's wrong when you get here."

"Fine." We spent the next few minutes hashing out details, and I hung up with the assurances that Quatre would take care of all travel arrangements, having the pertinent information to me first thing in the morning, my time. I thanked him and hung up the phone, finally beginning to feel as if my life might come back together.

At least, as long as I could manage to avoid Heero, but I'd cross that bridge when I came to it. I turned on my bedroom light, and began to pack. I didn't know exactly when I'd be going, but I knew if it could be arranged in a day, then Quatre was the one to do it. That guy could pull more strings than anyone I knew. Besides, it's not like I had a lot, anyway. Just my clothes, some cds, and a few personal items. The bulk of the packing would be for my paintings and supplies.

I made a mental note to myself to send a forwarding address to the gallery manager on L2. My work had seen some small success there, and I didn't see the need to cut off ties with him. I wasn't too worried about it, though. The move would actually simplify things, as the agent Quatre had found for me had his offices on earth, anyway. Being closer would enable me to keep interaction with the public to a bare minimum, a definite selling point.

After all, it was my interaction with the public that got the stalker's attention in the first place. At least, I hoped that was what got his attention. I was afraid, though, that it had been inevitable.

I thought I knew him, you see. He had haunted my nightmares for nearly ten years, and continued to do so. How could I forget him? He was the first man I had ever killed. Those types of things stick with you.

I realized that  it was impossible, and I am not insane, no matter what anyone says. I am perfectly aware that one can't be stalked by a dead man, but I couldn't help how I felt. Thankfully, I was getting the hell away from L2. I just had to get my bearings, that's all. Sometimes, running is the smartest option. I should know. I've done it so many times I've become a pro.

That's why I was on L2 in the first place. I had been running from Heero.

_...to be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2 Homecoming

*Author's Notes: This fic begins after the war. I have taken great liberties with the timeline (in this fic, Endless Waltz never happened), so don't be surprised. This is a work in progress. I have the entire fic outlined (it's been floating around in my head for months now), but I am posting it as I write it, so any suggestions/critiques/complaints/encouragement are greatly appreciated.

This fic was inspired by the song _Easier to Run_, by Linkin Park.

*Warnings: 1x2, 3x4, language, yaoi, violence, angst, Duo-sufferitis, TWT, semi-AU-ish, NCS.

*Disclaimers: I don't own Gundam Wing, the Gundam Wing characters, or a beach house in Jamaica. Don't sue me.

**********

_Chapter 2_

I was feeling a little stupid about my call to Quatre by mid-morning. There's something about sunlight that makes things that seemed important in the darkness look melodramatic in the daytime. However, I would have felt stupider having to call him back to cancel. Besides, I didn't feel stupid enough to stay on L2.

Hilde took the news that I was leaving well. She helped me box up the last of my things, then insisted on driving me to the shuttleport. I felt bad for springing it on her so suddenly, but she would just smile and shush me every time I tried to apologize. I think, on some level, she was glad to see me go. I can't say that I blame her. Hell, I would have been glad to see me go, too. I hadn't been much fun in the past year. The only times I hadn't been painting were when I would be brooding in my room. I alternated between the two activities, only breaking to eat, sleep, and, recently, making visits to the gallery hosting my work.

I had been getting a bit better in the last few months, at least as far as the brooding was concerned, but my newly acquired stalker had changed all that. After the first phone call, I had become so anti-social that even Heero Yuy would have seemed like the life of the party in comparison.

I derailed the Heero Yuy thought-train with a grimace. I so didn't want to go there right now. I had to get my baggage checked in, and myself on a shuttle to earth--the same planet on which said Perfect Soldier lived. I knew I'd have to deal with him sooner or later, but I didn't feel like spending the entire trip stressing about how long, exactly, I could manage to avoid him once I got there. There would be time enough to worry about that after I was safely ensconced at Quatre's.

I left Hilde at the main entrance to the 'port with promises to call her once I arrived on earth. I watched her drive away, then entered the building to collect the ticket that Quatre had promised would be waiting for me. That, combined with the handling of my luggage, ate up about fifteen minutes, and I found myself with a half an hour to kill before boarding. I decided to spend it at the cafe the facility housed. I hadn't eaten breakfast, and my stomach had chosen that time to remind me of the fact.

I wandered into the place, flirting with the cashier out of habit while I ordered a cheeseburger. She rewarded me by throwing in an order of fries for free, and her phone number written on the back of the receipt. I winked at her, then took my tray to a table in the corner of the room. There were only a handful of people there, besides myself, so I ignored them and focused on scarfing down my food. 

After a few minutes, though, I began to feel uneasy. Somebody was staring at me--I could feel it. Laugh if you will, but sometimes you just know when someone's eyes are on you. You get those little prickles, like static electricity, running down the back of your neck, and the air around you feels a little bit heavier, you know? Well, maybe *you* don't, but I do, and I was feeling it in spades at that moment. I continued to eat while I scanned the room from underneath my bangs. The burger tasted like greasy cardboard now, but I needed to keep up appearances for whoever was watching. There still weren't many people there; only three more since I had come in, a couple and a teenaged boy. The boy was staring at me.

I felt myself relax a bit, and felt a bit embarrassed at how jumpy I was acting. The kid was obviously not a threat. Probably just recognized me from some news clip from the war. I met his gaze and quirked an eyebrow at him, hoping he'd stop looking at me.

He didn't. In fact, he began walking toward me. I stiffened again, dreading it. I really, really hated dealing with the public. I didn't used to, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. Oblivious to my thoughts, the boy kept on, coming to a stop by my table. I sighed and gave him my attention.

"Duo Maxwell?" He had that scratchy, squeaky voice that all adolescent boys seem to have.

"Yeah," I said, really wishing that he'd go away.

"I was supposed to give this to you." He dropped a folded piece of paper on the table and turned and walked away.

What the hell? I looked from the paper to the boy's retreating back, catching sight of the cashier smiling at me as I did. I sighed again. Great. She was slipping me notes now. I smiled back at her before reluctantly picking up the paper. I wasn't in the least bit interested, but I didn't want to hurt her feelings, especially since I had flirted with her to begin with. It didn't occur to me until I opened the note that she had no way of knowing my name. When I realized it, my stomach gave a little flop. I was quickly regretting eating that cheeseburger. I forced my eyes to scan the paper, confirming my suspicions.

There was only one line printed neatly across it: _I'll see you on earth._ I crumpled the paper in my hand and raced to the cafe entrance, looking for the boy who had delivered it. He was long gone, of course. I cursed, loudly, causing the cashier to giggle and several of the patrons to stare at me. I ignored them all, retrieving my stuff, and stalked toward my shuttle.

I wanted to run like hell, but I managed to work up a butt-load of anger, instead, glaring at everyone who crossed my path. It was better than making a complete fool of myself. I kind of like to avoid that if at all possible, you know. I felt a bit shell-shocked. I couldn't figure out how he had found out I was going to earth. Hell, I had just decided to leave the day before. I wondered briefly if he had my phone tapped, but shoved the thought aside, practically growling at a woman who didn't move out of my way fast enough. Yeah, I was being a jerk, but, as I said, anger was better than blind panic any day, and I didn't think that panic was too far away. It wasn't until I was strapped into my seat and the shuttle was getting ready to take off that I realized I was shaking. I took a few deep breaths, trying to get myself under control, then looked around at the other passengers, wondering if one of them had sent me the note. It was unlikely that any of them were my stalker, as Quatre had gotten my ticket at the last possible minute, but I couldn't help being suspicious. I didn't recognize anyone, but that didn't make me feel any better. I wished I had my weapons on me. Even a small blade would have made me feel better at that point, but weapons weren't allowed on passenger-class flights. 

Needless to say, it was a long damned trip. I had planned to sleep most of it, but my paranoia was on overdrive, making sleep impossible. I was so glad when the shuttle finally touched down, I nearly kissed the stewardess. I got the hell off the thing, scanning the crowd and looking for Quatre's familiar face. I didn't have to look long. He was running toward me before I knew it, with Trowa trailing behind him. I barely had time to drop my duffel bag before he was launching himself at me. I caught him with one arm around his waist, hugging him to me and laughing.

"It's nice to see you, too, Quat," I said when he had stopped trying to squeeze the breath out of me.

He grinned up at me, stepping out of my grasp, but then his grin faded and he seemed to really look at me. I grimaced, knowing what was coming. I loved the guy like the family I never had, but he could be overwhelming with his concern sometimes. 

"Duo," he began.

"Later, buddy," I said. "We'll talk later, okay? I'm...tired right now. From the trip." He didn't look happy, but Trowa prevented him from saying anything else by speaking.

"Duo," he said, nodding at me. "Let's go get your bags."

I clapped him on the shoulder in gratitude and moved toward the baggage claim, chattering away about nothing in particular the entire time. They exchanged amused glances and followed, helping me load my stuff into Quatre's car. It was good to see them again, and, for the moment, I forgot why I was there in the first place. There would be time enough to remember later.

_...to be continued..._


End file.
